Intertwined
by crowskisses
Summary: If you asked Bill Weasley, he'd say he's never saved a life. If you'd ask Hermione Granger the same question she would scoff and tell you that he has, hers, multiple times. She only knew the half of them.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Intertwined

Summary: If you asked Bill Weasley, he'd say he's never saved a life. If you'd ask Hermione Granger the same question she would scoff and tell you that he has, hers, multiple times.

Rating: K

Disclaimer: Just for fun, I don't own any of the characters.

A/N: Shifting Tides AU, if you're unfamiliar with that it's cannon until DH at Malfoy Manor. It's a Bill and Hermione centric universe, first stop there is "A Drop in the Ocean" about Hermione's crush on Bill during her school years. This story will have some timeline overlap with it and others, I'll note if anything is a major spoiler. This is more writing excercise, to get the tone recaptured, but should be fun. There might be some inconsistencies, don't have my books handy.

As always, reviews are cherished.

...

 **Second Year**

"Oi!" Fred called from a few seats away, gesturing at Ron. "Got a letter from Bill and Charlie. Bill needs a favor and since we've got the game, you'll have to do it."

Ron gave his toast a particularly disgruntled look. "Why me? Where's Ginny, she can do it. Harry needs me."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and nudged Harry's plate closer to him, he had the same slight green shade he took on before a quidditch match giving him a quiet encouragement.

He gave a vague nod, shifting as George slid closer to them on the table. "No clue about Gin, Bill wants something looked up. Nerd still remembers the book."

Ron blinked, "You're kidding, right?" He glanced at his toast for confirmation, before turning to Hermione and Harry, "Bill practically knows everything, he's a walking reference book. Percy is always at the library, he can do it."

George shoved it into Ron's toast free hand, with an almost wild grin. "Oh, just read it prat. He's bossing everyone around, tells Percy to stop hanging out in the library."

Fred agreed, "He'll have to, still wants to be just like Bill. Or the non dangerous version anyway."

The twins snickered and Ron opened it, Hermione's curiosity was peaked and since Harry was off in quidditch land she had nobody to talk to. Ron clearly was scanning for his part, "Well, that's just rude, bet Ginny is the one who told him. What are he and Charlie doing hanging out anyway? They've got jobs, haven't they?"

Fred shrugged, beginning to tug Harry out of his seat. "Girl problems, I'd wager. C'mon, we've got to get going. Bill wants a prompt reply, so get to it Ron."

Ron looked at his toast for backup, but the quidditch players were already moving off to collect their chasers. "After the match, alright?"

"What's the book?" She asked curiously, "We could probably squeeze it in before the match. The owlery is on the way to the pitch."

Ron passed her the letter, " _Not so Mythical Creatures_. Seems Bill has a beast to battle in a tomb." He gave her a beseeching look, "Can you look it up? No way I'll be able to find it fast enough and I can go save us seats? One of us should be there to cheer Harry on at the start…"

She nodded, feeling her cheeks warm at the slight compliment and the thought Ron was going to save her a seat. He'd never done that before, just shoved his way to the best spot. "Sure, I think I've seen it."

He gave her a relieved grin and stood, shoving a few spare pieces of toast into his robes. "You're the best, Hermione."

"It's nothing." She rose too, definitely blushing and feeling tongue tied until they split paths, letter clutched in her hand. As she headed for the library at a speedy walk she opened the letter from the two eldest Weasley children.

Bill's handwriting was nothing like Ron's messy chicken scratch, it was a swooping cursive, as if he'd put love into each letter on the parchment. She pushed the thought away, feeling silly as she peered at the picture of the two brothers she hadn't met included. The one she thought must be Bill was giving a brilliant smile and cheeky wink, next to a freckled redhead who looked downright thrilled to be standing in front of an elephant.

It was a cheerful letter, with notes to each of his siblings: encouraging Percy to be more social, reminding the twins to not aggravate the ghosts, cheering Ron that his beloved Chudley Cannons could still make the playoffs if a series of unfortunate events occurred, apologizing to Ginny that her letter must have gotten wet so he couldn't write her back properly. She scanned and absentmindedly skipped the correct path across the shortcut.

C _an you do me two favors? Write Mum, she's going to kill Errol off harassing me on dig sites, because you lot are terrible correspondents. I also need something looked up and Hogwarts has one of the only copies where the vanishing curse has been properly broken. There's a creature in the tomb I'm working on, from what I can tell it's been alive since the tomb was initially sealed, likely as a guard for the inhabitants. There's either a shedding or cocoon from it and it's massive. The thing is presumably bashing hungry, but I need to know more information before I try to engage and promptly become a snack. There's a book, "Not so Mythical Creatures" by S. Scamander in the History section that I need to see. Preferably you'll check it out and mail to me, to break the curse binding it to Hogwarts-"_

Hermione gasped in outrage and curiously read the next few lines anyway, just in case she ever needed it, deciding the alternate charm to duplicate the pages was going to be incredibly useful in studying. She fetched it and referencing Bill's letter for what he was looking for, but couldn't shake several sentences he'd written about the Chamber of Secrets. Maybe this book could help them too.

 _I've thought about it more and dug the tomb incident reports regarding creatures, but nothing that matches what's happening at school. I'd wager it's hiding in the lake, but the Merpeople would have told Dumbledore, try not to let it worry you. Especially you, Ginny, I'm really sorry about your friend, but he'll be alright. Please use your pureblood status for good, there hasn't been an incident a muggleborn has been attacked with a pureblood present so keep your friends close. Don't let them go anywhere alone and for Merlin's sake, Fred and George, stop blowing up bathrooms. Not that I don't love having a faucet again, but Mum blamed it all on me, prats. The staff needs to spend their time on finding the creature or culprit, not acting like plumbers._

The handwriting switched, W _atch the skies as well, could be getting in through the windows. Seems like the castle is always busy when an attack happens, so nobody is looking up. Speaking of flying, how's quidditch going? Wood has been writing_ …..

She set it down, not needing to read anything about quidditch, smiling slightly at how Bill must have reacted to getting a snake faucet. A souvenir of the twins quidditch based anger taken out on the bathroom closet to Slytherin's dungeons. She looked back at the book and the thoughts of how it was moving around, how Harry could hear it. The thought that had spent months trying to spark finally caught, lighting into a fire as she perused the relevant selections for what Bill was going to fight. It was in the pipes, it had to be and she slowed down her perusal of the book and the terrifying creatures within it.

* * *

It would be years later that she would be checking their oldest daughter's trunk one last time, half listening to Bill reminding her to always write back to her siblings when written to. Rose would sound defensive, "I do write them. Well, eventually anyway."

"Do it promptly, Rose." She added, "They miss you very much when you're gone and feel like you've forgotten them."

Bill's ocean eyes had a guilty slant to them, before he looked off in remembrance. "Seriously, Rose. I wasn't the best about it myself at school and you know what happened? When I wrote the little suckers at school, they ignored me instead of taking a few minutes to do a favor of looking something up for me."

"Oh the horror." Rose rolled her eyes in the teenage way that drove Hermione nuts these days, Bill was still looking seriously at her, rubbing his ear.

"Rose, instead of knowing that all I needed to do was throw a bat-bogey hex to navigate a tomb safely I spent three days fighting a beast. I had to take refuge in a sarcophagus."

She looked curious, one of her younger brother's heads popping in, "Why didn't you just write Mum?"

Bill gave Hermione a fond smile, "Didn't know her yet and I think she was petrified at the time."

She blinked, suddenly remembering. "Actually, he did in a way. I was looking it up for Uncle Ron and got petrified leaving the library." She gave him her own grateful smile, "I'd just realized it was a basilisk and used a mirror. You saved my life."

Bill's face lit up like the sun breaking through the clouds as he chuckled, opening his mouth to say something only to have Rose cut in. "So ignore their letters, save lives. Got it."

Hermione shared an exasperated glance with Bill, "Rose…."

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A/N: Reviews are adored! Add a prompt even and I'll run with at least the first one. Thanks for reading :)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Awww I adore you guys who reviewed! It's nice hearing there's still interest in this universe. Now that I've got a machine I can write on again (and the time), I'm digging through the pieces and seeing what's worth putting out.

* * *

 **Summer Before 5th Year**

 **Grimmauld Place**

Hermione started at the loud noise of like a ton of bricks being dropped on a side table near the fire, Bill glancing at her, before frowning at the slim wallet he'd tossed down. "Sorry Hermione, didn't mean to startle you. I've really got to clean that out."

"It's okay." She reassured him, turning back to her study materials before pausing, "What's in there anyway? Extension charm?"

He opened it, taking a peek as he nodded. "Undetectable extension charm, whistled summoning charm and the best anti-theft punishments goblins have to offer. Though most of this mess is Charlie's, I shouldn't have done a co-location charm with that pack rat."

She frowned at him in confusion and he waved her question shut, "Charlie will tell you it's because he'd prefer his wallet not burnt to a crisp, but it's much more sinister than that." He dropped a melodramatic wink, "He was trying to get the cabbage smell out of his last wallet from when he got robbed, but mucked it up instead. Thinks all wallets smell like cabbage now, pity since he hates the leafy goodness."

She smiled, she hadn't had much interaction with Charlie, but knew like Bill he was a favorite with the younger siblings for his easy going personality. Bill was now pulling random objects out of the wallet, tossing a fedora her way while shaking his head. She barely caught it and spied the tied up letters, unopened, with Ginny's familiar scrawl and felt a pang for her friend. "You don't read them?"

Bill shook his head, glancing around to make sure Ginny was nowhere near as he shoved them back in. "Can't, they've got a time charm on them keeping them locked for now. Since Ginny hasn't mentioned them, I'm assuming she hasn't yet written them."

Hermione blinked, understanding causing her stomach to drop out and curiously to alight. "Buy why? What do you think prompted them? They could be incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands, maybe you shouldn't even read them when you can."

Bill gave her a slightly dark look, voice still low. "I've thought of all of that, Hermione. You don't send objects back in time unless you're trying to change it with an act of desperation."

"Or a really horrible prank?" She tried to offer up, wanting to lift the cloud from his bright blue eyes. She'd decided to tell herself she just admired his mind and kindness, was simply fascinated by his job and academic achievements, not the man himself. It had been Ginny's advice on how to combat being tongue tied and flustered around Bill in what was a crippling large crush. So far it seemed to be working better, just as Ginny could now be around Harry and speak.

"Maybe. How bad are the twins anyway? They're so gifted magically, but their grades don't reflect it." He too seemed to want to shift subjects, glancing up at his Mum's holler before making a face. "C'mon, she knows you've got your preterm work done. We'll handle clearing out the study, you'll probably get to see some curse breaking stuff."

She nodded without enthusiasm, but cheered herself that it would still be a break from Ron's foul mood filled with Bill's good one, "I'd like that and it's already been doxy sprayed!"

Bill pulled his wand and lifted it when they got to the stairwell, motioning her to stay a step behind and while it would have looked ridiculous on anyone else it came across as an ingrained habit. She admired his muscular back and wondered if this was how he conducted himself in tombs, with a confident cautiousness. Once they were in the study he tossed her a bandana, tying one around his own face. "Normally, I'd use a bubble head, but you wouldn't be able to hear me."

She nodded and headed for the filing cabinet beside the desk, surprised when he caught her arm. "Just a sec."

Several wand waves later he gave her the go ahead and headed for the china cabinet full of objects. She started sorting the files, old receipts, private letters Sirius might want to take a look at, what appeared to be a manifesto on blood purity that made her veins turn to ice. He noticed her frowning, coming over. "What's that?"

She handed it to him without comment, too incensed to clarify. He read a few lines and lit the parchment on fire. "Utter bollocks."

"Has your family ever…" She trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable, "Nevermind, it doesn't matter."

"No, it doesn't. Plenty of families are split on it, like Sirius'." He agreed, "I don't know of anyone in the last two centuries in the family tree who had blood prejudices, but all of the old families are interrelated. What about your boyfriend's? Bit of a head turner that was." His smile dropped a bit at her scowl, "No! I didn't mean it like that, Hermione. Just unusual since Durmstang is pureblood only."

"Well the quidditch pitch isn't." It was a bit of a snap, she'd heard it enough times before. "And Viktor isn't my boyfriend."

He raised an eyebrow, teasing smile at the edge of his lips. "Not what you crazy kids call it these days? Back to going steady or being an item? Keeping time together? Or even better, you're courting and he gets the noble title of suitor."

She laughed despite herself at his eyebrow wiggle. "None of the above, though he did mention courting is expected from him. I think it's common in Bulgaria."

Bill's eyebrows went into his hair, even as he nudged her away from the file cabinet, digging himself. "It's a very pureblood thing, Hermione, happens here too. Mum would just explode with happiness if any of us are that crazy, especially if Ginny had an excellent match. He must be pretty serious if even said that word to you, dangerous that is. Most wizards wouldn't mind being known as 'He Who Will Not Court."

She'd have to ask Ginny what it was all about, given Bill's rather extreme reaction to it. She turned to opening desk drawers with a bit of trepidation, "I take it you skipped that."

"I'm not a one woman man, pet, just think how jealous all of the mummies would get." He started whistling a funeral dirge for himself and she set about examining the drawer full of quills, most were clearly expensive and some achingly beautiful.

She twirled a particularly beautiful swan feather one in her fingers and tested it on the parchment, thrilled when Swan Lake started playing as she wrote rather more than necessary. Bill had noticed her fascination, "I'm sure Sirius would love for you to have it, rather than let it sit in a drawer unused."

She immediately set it down, "I'd never ask."

He dropped a wink at her and bellowed Sirius' name, immediately setting something to shrieking causing them both to wince in response. After shouting his question anyway and getting a cheerful affirmative from Sirius, another bellow from someone telling Bill to shut up, there was just the shrieking painting until it too was abruptly silenced. She reached to open the next drawer, Bill yanking her to the side as darts came flying out. Just as she was regaining her footing he shoved her completely off her feet as they swooped back around slamming into a shield of air, pinging like darts landing in a board. He reached down and helped her up, brushing her off and looking sheepish. "Sorry bout that. You alright?"

She nodded, though she was a bit shaken tried to hide it by smoothing her hair and looking at the wicked metal tips. "I can't believe Sirius was raised here, must have been incredibly dangerous for children."

Bill gingerly plucked one from his impromptu air shield, sniffing it and making a face. "Nasty stuff. Sirius was probably safe enough, most of these traps wouldn't go off for anyone with Black blood. Thought he'd disabled all of them."

"Can you show me how to do that?" She asked, "The shield? It seems like it would be useful to know."

"Bloody useful." He agreed, demonstrating the wand movement and repeating the incantation, clarifying at her quirked look the Latin root wasn't what she expected. "Caught that did you? It's not the air being affected, it's the particles in it. If you're ever in a real bind, spell up the top layer of the ground and hit it back to back. I sand shield fairly often, or did, before I took the desk job."

She filed the knowledge away, practicing without her wand, very much hoping she wouldn't have to ever use it or teach Harry to. After he deemed her form as good as it could be without performing the spell itself he fetched her new quill. "It deserves nice ink, don't you think?"

"I was thinking the same thing." She beamed at him, "A nice indigo, like a lake at night."

He nodded and set back to work very unenthusiastically but chattily, "Quills are a lot like wands, can be picky about their users and carry quite a few magical properties. I've always been fascinated by it. One of the guys in Charlie's year had a set that hated him, would purposely misspell words and spit ink at him. Charlie found it hilarious and kept putting it back in his bag. Until he tried to borrow one and got bitten in the hand the day before a quidditch match."

Bill shook his head, smiling back at her over his shoulder and she smiled from her parchment sorting. She'd love to see Draco have one of his quills be rebellious. "Why didn't they like him?"

Bill shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable. "He thought it was because he was muggleborn, turns out it was hand prejudiced. Only liked left handed people, so I traded sets with him. Still my favorite ones, actually, get one at least every year. Any quill preferences yourself? Scoot back, will you?"

She scooted back, his arm going protectively in front of her as he cast a series of stunning and freezing charms at the desk. He looked satisfied, but offered no clarity to just what he was attacking. "Um, not really besides sugar quills. I didn't know there was that much variation besides spell checks, I've just always used the ones listed on the approved supplies list I could order by owl."

Bill had stopped dead, looking incredulous. "You've never been to Quillions?"

SHe shook her head at him, asking tentatively, "Is it in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade? I haven't seen it."

"No, right next to Central Library in London." He glanced around the room, "Screw cleaning, we've got to fix this situation."

Despite her protests, his mother's annoyed disapproval, Bill was absolutely determined she was going to experience the emporium of quills, ink, parchment and creatures you could pick your own feather from for a custom piece. Ginny declaring her quills were broken and she was going too, her mother frowning. "Let me see, Ginny, I can probably mend them for you."

"I'll get them." Bill stepped back into the hallway, a summoning charm being cast as Ginny looked at Hermione glumly, knowing she'd have to keep using the quills with damaged feathers built for much larger hands. While Mrs. Weasley was telling Ron the same thing, Hermione heard a sharp snapping noise in the hallway and any thoughts of not having a crush on the man himself were as irretrievably broken as the quills he was showing his mother and a disbelievingly, delighted Ginny.

"Don't frown Mum, my treat for Ginny's birthday. I'll grab a few spares for the others with my Gringotts discount, maybe ones that remind the twins to study." His mother was mollified, giving him a warm smile. Hermione was even more moved by this gesture as well, Ginny loved to write and would appreciate a new quill, but the consideration shown to his mother's dignity over the lack of funds was striking. She knew Bill and Charlie were generous with their siblings, often providing needed replacements for items during term without blinking an eye. Usually under the pretense of just having a spare whatever it was lying around.

At Quillions she would get the supplies she would use to create the cursed parchment of Dumbledore's Army members, where she would learn to duel. It was Quillions where she would learn of the healing properties of murlap essence on quill related wounds.

But it was Bill who would gift her a custom made defense against the dark arts set. The lovely set containing a blood activated port key directly to St. Mungo's that would save her life during an assassination attempt during her time as Minister. It was BIll who would check a blank piece of parchment constantly while they were hunting horcruxes, hoping she would use the mirrored quill he'd hidden in her beaded bag with countless other supplies. So he could make sure they were alive and well, her who had no idea it did that and would be quite embarrassed by some of what he read later on. Most especially things she'd written while wearing the locket.

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A/N: Thoughts? Reviews :)


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: A bit more, I really appreciate the reviews! Got a bit sidetracked working on another chapter for the Counter, so keep your eyes out for that as well!

 **Third Year**

They were in the library, being uncharacteristically loud at the rare absence of Madam Pince, currently dragging a bludgered Oliver Wood to the hospital wing. He'd left her in charge of this lot, the missing chasers making their way over to also complete the extra essay all years had been assigned. Her stomach was full of fluttering knots at the glow of importance. Oliver Wood knew she existed and she made eye contact with Ginny, who grinned and she looked away to try and swallow the rising giggle down. Seventh year boys did not talk to third year girls and order quidditch teams to listen to them. She pulled Ron's essay closer covering her reaction only to immediately shake her head at it. "Ron, this is for Snape. You can't just make things up like you do in Divination."

"He shouldn't even have been able to assign us homework, it's not his class." Harry argued, still incensed that the teacher he loathed covered his favorite class for Professor Lupin. Harry's hair was especially unkempt from frustration and stress, his out of sorts mood visible enough she could see Neville pausing and retreating from joining them. She made a mental note to see how his essay was going back at the common room, glancing at the books she'd commandeered and he probably needed access to if he had any chance to not have his essay destroyed by Snape.

"Harry's right. This is bollucks!" Ron jumped in, glaring at the parchment.

"Sheer bollucks." Fred agreed, George nodding and Ron looked glancingly triumphant at the immediate agreement from the twins. Something in her middle thumped and twisted, there was something about Ron when he was sure of himself that she found herself admiring more and more. Not the time Hermione, she firmly reminded herself, this was a library and deserved respect.

"I'm not arguing that, but you've still got to try Ron. At least use facts." She implored, trying to cover her pause, shoving his essay back and gently tugging Harry's towards her. She glanced at Harry's quill and internally sighed, he was still using the one where the anti-blot charm had worn off. Harry glanced at it too, met her eyes and gave a small smile and she realized it was on purpose to annoy Snape. She gave a tiny smile back, Harry was excellent at subtle pettiness, years of the Dursleys had at least given him that.

"Who says I'm making it up?" Ron defended looking down at his rejected essay, "What part anyway?"

She tried not to scoff, gesturing at the book between them instead. "Howling at a werewolf is not a way to recognize one and certainly won't protect you from one."

"Yes it is!" He shot back, "Bill did it once, said it's standard practice on werewolf hunts to confuse them."

Ginny looked up and nodded seriously, "It's in my essay too, he had to apparate out of the way when it came for him."

She found Fred and George had started rapidly scribbling it into their own half done essays. She conceded the point, "That would certainly be a useful defensive technique, just doesn't work for anyone under age or in certain locations. You can't apparate here for example. I'm sure he'll take points off for a tactic that wouldn't work for students."

Ron shrugged, "Not like there's any werewolves here anyway."

She looked down at her own essay indicating otherwise and chose not to say anything. She found Professor Lupin an excellent teacher and knew Harry had developed a deep admiration of him for all the extra lessons and connection to his parents. Just as Ginny had developed a small crush on the teacher so different than the one who had refused to try and save her, so insistent that the darker arts often ensnared the innocent. Hermione found the distrust and prejudice against werewolves, against something that had been done to them against their will was both disturbing and depressing. "Harry, yours looks fine. Just needs a touch more to reach the assigned length."

He gave a grateful smile, "I'll add in Bill's thing too, not like he can dock points if it's so widely believed. Why don't you put it in yours, Hermione? Be extra thorough in your anecdotal evidence."

Later, out of time with Harry, she would howl to distract Professor Lupin away from attacking them outside the Whomping Willow she'd just be grateful it worked, never consciously remembering where she had gotten the idea from.

Years after that as she once again was in the hospital wing at the end of term she would recall it while transfixed by the jagged lines of shredded skin tearing across Bill's face and shoulder. Would quietly and privately weep at the injustice of it, would be thankful for the sips of potion Harry had asked them to take and would never shake the feeling those scars had been meant for her.

They were in a way, not the way Bill thought as he'd protected her at his own expense, but the scars her husband wore were hers to love and cherish. Were hers to run her nails across in passion, to stroke in soothing him, to spy him and marvel at how he'd managed to come out even more strikingly handsome to her heart.

….

It came up the summer after Bill had been mauled, his scars still bright red and his blood still adjusting to changes as he sought an escape. "Hermione? Want to go to London?"

"We already are." Ginny cut in, already holding the floo pot. "To the Lupins', we're going to watch the confiscated muggle item check!"

"Boring." Bill answered, "Hermione, I need you for something else. We'll stop by there after, I've got to grab a pickup from Rosetta Stone anyway."

Ginny snickered, "He hates his code name, very displeased with you and Charlie over it. Says you should have used one of my suggestions instead."

Bill rolled his eyes, "It makes a lot more sense than Digiredoo Pumpkin Head, or whatever it was you came up with. We'll see you over there, Gin."

She went with Bill anyway, Ginny shooing at her in a way that meant Hermione's presence would not be missed in the slightest. "Bill, I really wanted to help with the confiscated muggle items. I'm so curious about what's being cursed."

He gave her a surprisingly serious look, "Pet, to be frank, most of the Order doesn't want you near them. They're highly dangerous and you're too important to whatever plan Dumbledore left Harry with."

She opened her mouth to argue, feeling an uncomfortable unease that her life had been weighted as more important than other Order members. "It would be incredibly useful to know and I'm extremely careful." A pause, "And if they're so dangerous, why is Ginny allowed to go and watch?"

"So she can annoy Rosetta. Maybe he can translate her into normalness." He said it jokingly, before relenting at her look. "I'm a linguist, pet, put in all the work and he puts me to shame. Didn't have to do a damn thing."

"Why-?"

Bill had successfully derailed her dislike of the situation into sheer curiosity. He shrugged, "Accident at Hogwarts. N.E.W.T. and O.W.L students were practicing charms together, he got hit by a mess of spell collision. Fluent in everything."

"Except water languages!" Ginny cut in, "He claims Merpeople attack him on sight. Weird, since he's water aligned."

She and Ginny were both looking at Bill for an explanation, "I see your eyes gleaming, Hermione. The Ministry put a lot of effort into trying to replicate it, but even looking at the memories of everyone involved they can't pin down the mix of what he was hit with. Too many shield charms and ricochets."

Ginny quirked her head to the side, "How do they look at memories? A group of people's?" Fingers tightening on the floo pot in a way that Hermione's heart immediately went out to her. Bill's had as well, voice softer. "There's something called a pensive, Ginny. You can extract memories and view them in there as an observer, it's mostly used to clear one's mind when they've got more important things to think about."

Ginny still had a frozen quality about her and Hermione jumped in, "Dumbledore had one, they're not dangerous, just very useful. He's shown it to Harry! Pattern matching, ability to spot commonalities," She felt herself starting to ramble at Ginny's fingers turning white from clutching the floo pot so hard, "Even to get a song out of your head, Professor Flitwick told us about it when explaining why he'd been working on a charm to do the same thing."

Ginny nodded woodenly and flooed to the Lupins without responding or offering a goodbye. A glance showed her Bill was as tense and worried as she was, giving her an attempt of a smile. "She'll be alright."

At the moment, none of them had any idea just how vital a pensive would become within the year. No inkling the conversation would prompt another months later that would help Hermione heal from torture, shift the tides of war and irrevocably intertwine several families.

"Tonks won't let her near them, probably ward her separately. Since she can't help at least she can learn." Bill attempted to say it blithely, not quite achieving, but allowing her the grace to also not address the distress.

"So where are we going? Ron's shift going alright?" Hermione could her own voice's sharpness, a touch to high from the effort. Bill was still agitated, trying very hard not to be and she wasn't quite sure what was going on under his ever changing ocean eyes.

He looked annoyed for a second, before it slid back out to sea. "Ron's fine, probably bored out of his mind. We're doing a quick recon on a muggleborn tot who's just starting to show magic."

Her stomach clenched in horror, then understanding, refusing to unclench. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, "Did they….did they do that last time?"

It lingered unsaid, _Did they do that to me?_ Bill gave her a deep look, "Before The Fall yes. They had reason-"

"The prophecy about Harry, his Mum." She cut in and a dark look crossed across Bill's face like a shadow, but he didn't disagree or clarify.

"You wouldn't have shown magic until after The Fall, I assume Dumbledore hadn't dropped the practice." She opened her mouth and Bill kept talking, giving a slight grimace, "Besides, the muggles haven't gotten a good look at my face lately."

"Bill-" She started, not entirely sure where she was going, her voice swallowed as her navel pulled out from behind her.

His arms were around her, one hand smoothing hair off her face, tracing down her back. "Sorry, didn't give you any warning. You alright?"

She inhaled, Bill's scent had changed from the heady mix of Eastern spices and man that so easily overwhelmed her to something more wild. The hair brushing hers was salty and beachy, the fitted shirt woodsy from the time spent walking in the orchards, the man was still there, stronger. She leaned against him for a moment, before coming back to herself in the jolt of ridiculousness that she was still swooning and very much didn't want to be. She pulled away, "Fine."

They were in a parking lot, hidden between the trees and looking at a muggle nursery school, full of little ones in various states of play. Bill furrowed his brows and she didn't need to, feeling a sudden rush of kinship for their little target. "There."

"How do you know?" Bill said, "I've just got a name and-"

"She's alone." Hermione said it with the sureness of an authority on the matter, unaware of what bled through her voice, aura and magic. So focused on the little girl whose situation so mirrored her own earliest memories, she missed Bill's reaction and the rush of helplessness he felt. The little girl had looked up and Hermione gave her an encouraging smile, vowing to herself that this little girl would get to attend Hogwarts just as she had, better than she had, without the shadow of war or hatred.

Her little face changed, curiosity tilting her head and Hermione realized she was looking at Bill as he stiffened next to her. The little girl had yelled a name, pointing and as Bill started to turn them away he froze instead, relaxing. She looked back, it wasn't a teacher the little girl had called, but a little boy with burn scars on his face. Not knowing exactly what to do, Hermione slipped her hand into Bill's and squeezed, the little boy smiled and when she glanced up Bill was grinning back at him. He shook their held hands as if they were some sort of example, dropped a wink and he pulled them towards the street. "Aren't we su-"

"-No. We were seen, another team will pick it up, I wasn't expecting them to be outside." A brilliant smile, "I think I'll talk to the little bloke, looks like he could use a friend too. Even a quasi-werewolf one."

"Best kind there is." She squeezed his hand and he darkened, she squeezed again. "Saved my life when I came across a real werewolf. Ron had told us about your werewolf hunt and I guess it stuck in my brain."

Bill looked completely blank, "Werewolf hunt? I've never been on a hunt."

She furrowed her brow, "Ron said you had, Ginny too, howling distracted them."

Bill lit up, deep belly laughs taking him, turning into a mirth that blurred his eyes with tears as he tried to stop howling with laughter. "Can't-believe-they-still-" more laughter, "tell-Charlie"

It took quite a bit of time for him to settle into running eyes and a face cracking grin for any of it to make sense. "One of the best benefits of being an elder sibling is telling your younger ones all sorts of lies about what Hogwarts is like. Charlie and I had a competition going, but I told them my third year DADA class did a werewolf hunt in the Forbidden Forest. I think this means I take back the lead!"

She stopped walking, ire rising in her, embarrassment rapidly overtaking it. "Bill, that's terrible!"

"No, it's hilarious." He was unrepentant in his glee.

She shook her head at him, hand curling into a fist. "Bill, Ron and Ginny are who explained magical traditions to Harry and I. I've probably been believing all sorts of your lies!"

His amusement didn't lessen an iota, "Sure you looked it up to double check, pet. Let's go check on another highly misled muggleborn and those pesky items you wanted to see."

They twisted and found an irate, bloody, warded off muggleborn attempting to get a trident out of his side while still trying to handle what had manifested. Bill would slip in to help, wand snatching and warding her with a worried Ginny before she had a chance to do anything. Watching him help eradicate the danger, listening to his very educational narration as he healed his barely conscious companion would give her the practical knowledge of how to apply dittany with precision, with retention of limited resources in mind. Would show her activation shortcuts in potioning on the fly and lead her to, with his help, build her own magically advanced medical kit for field healing.

It would save more lives than one.

* * *

Hermione would hear it next years later, whispered between children who were supposed to be sleeping. "Third year is the best, Dad went on a werewolf hunt."

"They don't do that anymore." Rose was chiding her brothers, "But Mum had to do an obstacle course with dementors, had to go face to face with the creature from the Shrieking Shack. Right Teddy? Crookshanks helped!"

Hermione didn't hear Teddy Lupin's answer, just a grizzly, self-satisfied purr from her long time companion.

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A/N: Hope you liked it! Let me know :)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: If you've been in this universe, you might notice some of the stories are now missing. There's good reason for it, quite unrelated to this universe, but to potential pending publication of the original kind and I got a wee bit rip down heavy. On that note, for now I'm planning on putting any stories I get specific requests for back up and will make a note in Shifting Tides itself if things change. So if you're not a follower over there, go on and smash that button.

Reviews are fun, so was Bill's coming of age and Charlie's interference. How exactly does that relate to Hermione? Read on to see, quite rough cut, no beta.

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 **Hogwarts, November 1987**

Bill Weasley's coming of age had many typical aspects of most wizarding ones, a general good mood and a surprise gift here and there. One of these surprise gifts got him very excited, but left him feeling cheated out on actually getting to enjoy it for years. He is not Hermione's savior here, other brothers deserve the credit, but it is arguably the beginning of a long process that would get her through a danger she didn't conquer of her own accord.

It began when he was spending time with a Ravenclaw girl he was quite sweet on, holding the little wrapped birthday gift she'd gotten him and was presumably giving him early to avoid the not so surprise party that happened in common rooms on birthdays. It was also the beginning of the end of that relationship, something he would blame on Charlie. There was a commotion in the hallway, a beginning of a grabbed handle on the door and an exasperated voice, carrying in. "C, At least knock. He's with a bird."

A pause, "Which one?"

"Put it together. I'm being clever." Bill got up to rip the door open himself to handle the two morons on the other side and avoid the glare he was getting from his bird. There was cheery badger girl who followed him around. He'd wanted to be kind of her crush and at almost seventeen thought the best way was simply to ignore it, never address a single mention of it or the teasing that came with it.

"What. Do. You. Want?" It was a hiss, trying to block out the fact the guess was not wrong and block the girl who would only date him in secret. The watching of Tonks crush on him, a Hogwarts student incapable of escaping attention, suited her just fine. His bird had never exactly told him why she wanted it that way, referenced that he'd dated most of her friends, but Bill rather suspected it had to do with his family. Perhaps with the difference in their fathers status at the Ministry or perhaps to do with the ridiculousness of the brother currently causing yet another scene.

"Nobody can get into the common room. Been locked since dinner." Charlie said it, trying to peer so he could finally figure out who thought she was too good to be seen with Bill and promptly start disliking her, causing Bill more problems than he wanted.

"Go find a different Prefect." He started to shut the door, finding a hand grab it, "Go find Professor McGonagall if you can't manage that."

He tried to shut it harder, succeeded while making Charlie yelp. "She's already there, told us to come get you."

He highly doubted that, the irate voice from behind him surmising a guess. "Did whatever lion you've got as well plan a surprise party?"

There was a pause outside the door, then a chuckle from one, muffling the other from the beginning of saying "The f-"

"Our portrait has a present for you. She won't let anyone in until you take a letter she's got for your birthday. Everyone's going wild with speculation."

"Beyond wild!" The other voice agreed.

He ripped the door open promptly forgetting his companion's preference of secrecy and the unopened gift flying from his mind, never to be recalled. They were not kidding, paintings crowded with extra inhabitants looking at him. So Bill went in rising excitement, never getting a present he would have loved and gaining a rather bad reputation as a boyfriend. He tried to get more information from them as they rushed, from the paintings, but it was the same. Shouting questions at ghosts when they got delayed on the swinging staircase. Someone had given the Fat Lady a letter and nobody knew how. Was she painted in with it? Or did someone paint a photo of it themselves and it had been passed from hand to hand, portrait to portrait until this very moment?

They all cared about how, but Bill cared a hell of a lot more about why.

A rather caustic voice offering the worst possible suggestion, "Your mother's got a knack for decorating walls, an excellent clock, I believe. Perhaps she figured how to stop children from outrunning Howlers sent to them."

He hadn't outrun it, he'd out cleverer it or so he'd thought at the time. Shoved it in the empty milk jug in Charlie's hand and slammed it on the table, where it promptly disappeared. The massive fallout from that trick was the two eldest Weasley siblings found out Hogwarts had a plethora of house elves, who'd had it go off on them instead, much to their terror. House elves who despite ardent amounts of detention and earnest apologies really would throw off their cooking on purpose.

Bill looked at Charlie and found him blanching in unison, a new fear settling into their bones that would be passed down from sibling to sibling right along with talks of thrown off cooking. Siblings, who through no effort on their Mum's part, would decide it was best to open any Howlers immediately and sit through the mortification at breakfast before it started to magnify.

There was a heavier occurrence of that matter than sibling lore. It was his first broken code for the Order and second defiance of Lord Voldemort, though he was ignorant at both. For the house elves' sake, the tables were imbued to prevent a reoccurrence and just how Death Eaters in training in different houses at Hogwarts had been communicating without detection ceased to be an option for the second rising. Gryffindor held no more gullible, insecure Peter Pettigrews who sat in the same spot day after day, notes on the bottom of plate he would lift to fill and slide into his sleeve unseen.

The staircase unswung with Bill thinking the house elves would know the birthday cake that would appear in the common room was for him and probably not send one at all, seeing Charlie's thoughts had turned the same way. He led the way to his unexpected birthday lady and found his crashing steps, shouts of incoming or the paintings meant everyone was staring at him and there was no need to shove his way through the crowd. He didn't like the sensation of so many eyes on him in scrutiny, so different than the half attention he commanded at best when trying to announce things as a prefect or eldest brother.

McGonagall gestured at him, opened her mouth to explain, but the Fat Lady cut her off, fanning her fluttering spirits with the object of his desire. "Have you heard? I've a special birthday delivery for you! You've always been one of my favorites."

"I heard! Do I just grab it?" He asked in excitement, seeing her demeanor change adding quickly, "From my favorite lady?"

She was still fanning it, clearly wanting more praise. An impatient, but the curious portrait of the Fat Lady's friend, who was slightly out of breath clarifying. "Just straight to you when he heard, left his poor girlfriend in tears."

Bill had the grace to wince, he hadn't even noticed, looking around finding every just was assuming it was an exaggeration. "Please, Lady Violet? The youngest ones should be getting to bed, you know you're always worrying about how tired they are."

She softened, looking for her shortest keep, shoved somewhere at the back. "Oh very well, ruin my fun. You'll promise to read it to me?"

"You will be the absolutely first person!" He agreed easily enough, deciding that for once he would revel in the attention and read it out loud if it was nice.

"I am who it was entrusted to. The only one." She beamed and he tried to shove his hand in the painting. Only managing to bump it awkwardly against a rather impolite part of the lady who didn't seem to mind in the slightest, but chose not to relinquish it and descend into blushing giggling instead.

"Yes, yes. Violet, please give Mr. Weasley his letter, he's not wrong about students needing to be in bed." McGonagall had cut in, tones her normal slightly irate ones, but her eyes were not. The cat eyed green was disturbed, more worried than curious, concern slid away as soon as she noticed his scrutiny.

With one last piece of dramatics she tried to pass it to him, he still unable to receive it, looking around at Charlie. Finding McGonagall had followed his gaze and had no amusement left in her, "Is this some sort of prank?"

This offended Lady Violet to the highest degree, intrigued several people and the whispers of speculation ran rampant again. Echoing around the hallway, he pleaded with Lady Violet, sulked, implored, complimented, made wild promises. "Lady Vi, I don't know how you managed to keep this secret, but I bet everyone here is really impressed. They'll all probably want to tell you secrets they can't even tell their closest friends."

That statement would later be misremembered by the portrait, who a bit mad with power and attention tried to start demanding secrets to be let into the Common Room. Bill got glares for it, but as much as a gossip she was, as far as he knew she kept those confidences. At least until an exhausted quidditch team told her a secret play, abruptly panicked their obsessed captain coming up behind them and Charlie tried to Obliviate her. He had not yet fallen out of her good graces and was being a supportive brother, trying to help Bill along with the same failed results.

"Very well then, a visit will take care of the matter." Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and received the same reaction. "I believe we have some artistic Gryffindors present."

There was a pause, Lady Violet looking left and right, touching her curtains and the understanding slowly made the way through the watchers. Professor McGonagal was going to have herself painted in if she had to, was not leaving the matter to other portraits to handle. Bill had never wanted anything so much in his life. His letter had to be direly important, absolutely not a Howler from Mum, was vital enough a sacred relationship between Head of House and Guardian was at stake. Professor McGonagall proceeded to call out several names and Bill could only assume they were the ones who'd doodled in class. There was shuffling and shifting, but their crowd remained silent and someone got given a shove near Charlie, jostling him as well.

"I'll do it." It was Charlie, whose name had not been called, who had no artistic talent, but was equipped with a wild fearlessness. As a Fourth Year, Charlie had more guts than any forty year old Bill had met, anyone he'd ever met. At almost fifteen, Charlie also had a massive quidditch hero induced crush on McGonagal spurring him on.

Someone snickered, but their Head of House did not, refused to break eye contact with Lady Violet even as their quidditch captain got a cheer from the crowd. "Come forward, Mr. Weasley."

"I don't think that will be necessary." It was a low, amused voice as their Headmaster made his way through the Gryffindors. He twinkled at Charlie, but the look he gave Bill was deeper, probing. Bill looked back, trying not to look like he was pretending to be innocent of any wrongdoings, but desperately hoping he wasn't about to get a Howler disproving it all. No, she wouldn't, not on his birthday and Bill strengthened his gaze from innocence into the confidence he would some day fully possess.

"Do you have the time, Mr. Weasley?" He got several headshakes in response, but Bill waited, Professor Dumbledore was well aware they were underage, did not wear unearned watches and had to know it was his birthday causing this uproar.

"I'll know it's midnight when Lady Violet gives me my letter." Bill's response was even, as fearless as Charlie was Bill had been gifted with a remarkable amount of self restraint. Dumbledore was also in full knowledge of what Bill wore around his neck, the self restraint it was taking not to try and intercede the sender in time. Bill had no expectations over a coming of age gift, whatever watch he might get would be far less valuable than even a grain of sand in the time turner he wore.

Charlie had finagled an arm wearing a watch into his possession and started a riotously loud countdown. Bill was trying not to fidget, anxiety twisting him about and Lady Violet was in a much more severe state of high spirits. The uproar was excruciatingly loud, Midnight had come and gone with her dramatics, "I just can't bear to give it to you. The news…"

Bill turned to Charlie, about to demand a paintbrush when the Divination teacher spoke, offering the rarest of prediction. "It's good news."

The front half of the crowd jumped, unaware of their own growing number, some flattening away from the Bloody Baron and contingent of curious ghosts and teachers. Bill put no stock in such an obvious fraud's words, but decided even she wasn't up to a wild tale for a birthday boy. Bill snatched the letter as soon as the corner came out, afraid Lady Vi would change her mind. The silence was sudden and complete, no shuffling feet to even cover the rustling of opening it. Sound replaced by anticipation as he yanked the parchment out.

It was blank.

He looked wildly around for an explanation, finding equally as shocked faces. It couldn't be blank.

Charlie's familiar scrawl appeared after a second, different ink, nicer quill. _Later._

He turned to Charlie in confusion, but he was already pitching backwards either in a true bout of Sight or pulling the highest level of emergency distraction he could manage. Charlie was mumbling into who'd caught him, and Bill tried to get away, Professor Dumbledore catching his arm, intensely focused on the words. A glance and it was gone, "Minerva, I'll sort the Mr. Weasleys. I think hot chocolate and to bed will do for the rest."

There was general agreement, shuffling into the space that had widened at Charlie's episode. Bill was focused on his still blank letter as they moved down the hallway, startled at Percy's high, nasally voice. "Bill, what's the password? Lady Vi says you have it."

He looked at Dumbledore, at Charlie and back at the parchment. A riddling quote appeared in familiar handwriting. He showed them the parchment, nothing catching in their minds. " _I speak as my understanding instructs me and as mine honesty puts it to utterance._ "A Winter's Tale". W. Shakespeare."

So Bill went with what he recognized even as he vowed to read it, "Shakespeare? Try that Percy, muggle playwright."

"Never heard of him." Charlie muttered it in dejection, he did not enjoy the prophetic side of him, viewed more as a curse than anything.

The Prewett bloodline had the unfortunate curse of not being time stable, due to an early time traveler's mistakes. Charlie's prophetic poems never made sense, nor did the letter Bill received at the time. Bill was baffled the confusing contents, but determined, memorized the entire play, entirety of Shakespeare and when introduced to Hermione Granger quoted the queen's greeting to the tongue tied, blushing little girl. While once he met her he would pay more attention to her than his siblings other friends, still trying to sort out the initial letter. The intended consequences had already occurred.

Until that fateful meeting he had tried every avenue he could to figure it out. It was a naggling mystery, a puzzle to be solved as he mulled and mulled over it for ages. He left England, broke curses, played the drums, dug into puzzles and games that needed focus. For years, dragging his siblings along with him into the madness to solve his first unbreakable code. There's only one outcome of Bill's curious predicament worth mentioning until Charlie decided to write the letter years later.

Ronald Weasley became remarkably good at chess.

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 **Spoilers Ahead**

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When the uncle was chaperoning a courtship date between Rose Weasley and Teddy Lupin would wince at Teddy's butchering of a quote from the play she was named for in his attempts at romancing. Rosalind would not, already in love and would shut down the untimely interruption as quickly as possible. "Yes, it was very nice of you to think of Mum's name when picking mine."

Teddy would chime in, "It's so well suited."

A touch too well suited at times, in her Uncle's opinion. "Was thinking more about your Dad's longtime Shakespeare obsession from his coming of age. Caused a downright ruckus."

His charges had not heard this story and as Hermione already had told him off for being a bit too lax of a chaperone, launched into it before retreating to write a letter in a different room. The result was Rose told her mother all about Bill's house elf debacle, spellbinding interest in muggle plays and when showing her the tickets to the play Teddy had gotten her for her birthday asked in sheer excitement if it could be Uncle Charlie to chaperone again. Hermione would be eyeing the poorly done glamour charm covering a love bite on her daughter's neck, when Bill's voice would holler up. "Didn't mean to overhear, too close to the moon. Already have tickets for Mum and I, so you're stuck with us, pet. Though he'd enjoy it."

To deflect Hermione's belated irateness at his accidental house elf abuse, contemplative thoughts about what if, anything should be said to Harry about the incident, Bill would make another decision. Rose's suitor was more graceful than she was that her ideal romantic date became an extended family affair, but wouldn't deny it was a very fun way to celebrate her coming of age.

When the adults all seemed be very moved by the romance in the plays, her chaperones thoroughly distracted she would look at her own younger brother attempting to look as innocent as possible. Teddy would grin at him, turn to her and offer a wooing quote without interruption from the same play she'd been named for. "Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold."

"Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor and like enough to consent." She responded in kind and they bolted.

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A/N: Thoughts, reviews? Not sure how I like the future glimpses.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Doing a writing dump before having to take it all down :) I think this fits here best, bit winding, but yep their lives were twined up. Starts immediately after Harry, Hermione and Ron twist off to go on the run in DH, direct pick up from A Drop in the Ocean.

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Bill's insides were ice, his heart somewhere in his throat. He hoped they'd made it, he reassured himself he'd seen Hermione twist them away. There had been no time for goodbye, nothing other than to tell her to go and not come back. He had to do something, he couldn't just stand here and he'd already been banned from trying to help clean up after he just set the rest of the marquee on fire. He headed over to his father, stern faced and pale under the stress. He was with Robinson, as intense as Bill felt. "You're sure she's safe?"

Robinson nodded, giving Bill a glance and reading whatever was written on Bill's face. "Not her. Ginny. Bill, want to go with to fetch her back? She's got to be scared and confused. Two wands are better than one."

Bill felt another sharp sting, he hadn't even looked for her. Hadn't gone for the sister who was too young to use her wand, "Why hasn't she come back on her own?"

Robinson looked wretched as he loosened his grip on the wand in his hand, it was Ginny's. "She can't. We'll be right back, Mr. Weasley."

Bill nodded giving him a side look as they headed to where the wards were back up, reinforced and farther out. "Why do you have her wand?"

"Hagrid sat on mine and it broke. We would have had to forfeit the rest of our duels." It was a bit of a snap, a tense hand up and through his hair. He glanced back, making sure they were far enough away from any prying ears, voice dropping anyway. "Bill, is there a way to track a portkey? They won't have-"

"Only long haul. If it was a short jump, no. That how you got her out?" Bill asked.

Robinson nodded, "She should be at my grandparents, but Bill, I'd never done the spell. Your Mum will kill me."

'I'll kill you, Robinson." He glared at him for a moment, "Do at least three apparition stops, I"ll keep my wand out. They can try and follow us that way."

It took longer than Bill would have liked, into muggle London and Bill got a nostril full of acrid spells and saw a destroyed out shop, they twisted again and again. He wanted to twist back, what if it had been Hermione, Ron and Harry. Then it hit, even if it was them, there was nobody there. He swallowed, "Today is the worst."

Tried to convince himself, "London was probably the decoy for the Ministry. Muggle sport most likely."

He looked up at the little house and half expected Ginny to come running out, seeing an equally as anxious look on his face as they went up to the door. An old man's voice came through it, "You have to prove it's you."

"You lost me at the fair when I was seven. Ginny's got my watch on. You okay?"

The door unlocked and while Bill didn't think it was quite enough, it was more security than he was expecting. He certainly wasn't expecting an older muggle man to immediately raise a decorative sword again at the sight of Bill's face. He lifted his hands, showing his wand while Ginny shouted. "He's my brother. It's okay. Everyone okay? What happened? Harry?"

Ginny's face was swollen and he rushed over to her, getting barked at by the dog sitting with her. "Gone with the other two. Everyone is fine on our side. What happened here? You're hurt."

She reddened slightly, before glaring at the friend who'd sent her away as soon as Death Eaters swooped into the celebration and pointed at a very broken window. "The portkey didn't slow down to tell me when to let go, so I just slammed into that."

He grimaced, "First time making one. Sorry, sorry… Give me a mo' to fix it."

"I need to talk to you, Bill. Now. Right now." Ginny hissed it at him and she snatched another cookie off the little tray near her safety landing spot. "Sir? Can we use one of the bedrooms? Bill can fix the cuts on my face, but he's a nervous Healer if he has an audience."

Ginny was impatient and shoved his wand aside when he lifted it to begin healing her. She waved an old journal at him and yanked something out. She shoved it at him. "When? Why?"

He looked down at it and took a step back in shock. It was his face, his scarred face, crammed in between two matching ones. Two very dead uncles with eyes the same shade as Ginny's brown, another bit of a telling shade of red swishing in and out of the corner. His voice sounded high to his own hears. "I don't know, Gin. I haven't gone yet."

And who goes with me? It rattled around his head, but Ginny wasn't noticing that.

She looked back at the old journal, at her portkey and flipped to the front. "1978. Maybe Aunt Muriel wrote about it? Wouldn't Dad or Mum have said something to you?"

"Not if they didn't see me" He moved to take the journal from her and found her snatching it to her chest, clutching it.

"No. I'm reading it, it'll be weird if I suddenly don't have it with me. Everyone will notice." Bill shook his head impatiently at her excuse.

"Give it here, Gin. Nobody will notice if you don't have a book with you." Bill started and stopped as Ginny stepped back, face like thunder. It hit, he hadn't been in England for any of it, for Ginny's diary and the aftermath, but yes, the adult eyes still followed his sister and her possessions.

"I'd notice." Robinson had come in and was watching them, budging Bill aside to start healing. "And I'd apologize to her, Bill, before I return her wand."

"Sorry, Gin. I wasn't…bloody hell, I wasn't thinking. Crazy night." He floundered around the foot in his mouth, "Still reading them aloud to Aunt Muriel? Can I join you two?"

Ginny's glare lessened and she nodded, before earnestly making a request. "I know you can take it, but please don't. It might be the only way I can be of any help to Harry and the Order. Don't tell Mum either, she'll take it away and cry."

"I won't, but Gin, I've got to tell someone. Ask Remus perhaps, he was in the Order then." Bill conceded thinking as soon as he could slip her a sleeping draught he would and read it. He'd humor her after, it would keep her out of trouble.

"Fine, but you both have to vow not to take it away from me. Snape was around then too." Ginny demanded in return.

So Bill joined a book club where a teenage girl read to an old crotchety aunt ,whose memory was of no help, and a werewolf. His Mum was thrilled at the gallant attention being given to Muriel during the summer rains, "Bill, I know it's just to keep you from worrying about Ron, but Muriel is thrilled and just wishes Charlie could be there too."

Bill shared an exasperated look with Ginny as they headed out to bunker down with Aunt Muriel and her pups through the rest of the storm. Charlie was their Great Aunt's favorite by far and nobody, including Charlie, was quite sure what he'd done to earn the very spoiled status. Ginny glanced up at him, "I've been seeing it dreams a bit. The arithmancy is coming out so strange."

"You haven't even started N.E.W.T. Level classes, Gin." Bill soothed, "The arithmancy around time travel is a very specialized study in and of itself. We know the pages I need aren't visible just yet."

" _We_ need. That's my hair in the corner, Bill." Ginny nodded glumly, the journal had been examined by Remus and Bill in great detail. Had been wand tapped with every possible word combination that they could think of to try and show what was hidden in the worn pages of the parchment journal. Bill suspected he or Remus had done the charm for whatever reason and it was coded to something said in the natural course of things, not to any repeated code.

Still Ginny was delighted as they hit Muriel's wards, running in sheer excitement and scooping up a ball of fur. "Crookshanks! Where have you been? Good boy coming back. Hermione told you to stay with me!"

Bill looked at the cat, at the weirdly aware familiar with a tail the same ginger red as Ginny's sun lightened hair flipping in and out of her mane. He froze for a moment, Crookshanks meeting his eyes and sudden understanding hit. He looked at him and went to tug him from Ginny's smothering, "Inside Ginny, no lingering."

She huffed and passed him over and Bill scratched under his neck, looking closely at the collar that had caught his eye. Murmuring to the smash faced ginger cat. "Yes, I see it. You and me then?"

Bill had no idea if Hermione's cat could time travel, but he suspected he was about to find out. Or he'd wind up more scarred fighting to get the time turner off his neck. Crookshanks briefly wound between Remus' legs and nuzzled Aunt Muriel's hand full of treats, before settling back on Bill's lap as scones were set and pleasantries exchanged. His brain whirred and buzzed, he didn't know much about Hermione's cat other than Ron's mutterings and that both Sirius and Remus were very fond of him. He tried to think, "Gin, where do you think he's been? I can't imagine he's been with her."

Ginny looked up from finding her spot in the book, "Hermione told him not to follow her anymore after Harry lost Hedwig. He's supposed to stay with me, but he must miss her and went looking. He's extremely clever."

"He might have seen her wanted poster. He's very intelligent from the moons I've spent with him." Remus offered, he glanced at Bill then away. "When I was a Professor, he was in league with Sirius, who was unaware of the invention of wolfsbane. He made sure I had a companion as best he could."

"I miss him." Ginny said it easily, before turning to Remus. "Aunt Muriel refused to let the Trauma Ward at St. Mungo's be named after his family. When the Board told her she had to, since they gave all the money for it, she dutifully named it after Sirius' Great Grandfather's animangus form."

"Ah yes, the infamous ding bat. I believe he was trying for a more noble species of the animal." Remus smiled and Bill did as well, fingering his wand, wishing he was wearing dueling boots.

Aunt Muriel gave a rheumatic smile. "Flying animals were in vogue then." Her eyes looked at Ginny, who had a scone half in and out of her mouth, held in her teeth, as she opened to their bookmark, she reached over and yanked it out. "Ginevra! Manners matter if you'd ever like to be married."

Those old eyes swung his way and Bill braced himself for the undeserved scold coming his way. "Your blood may be infected, but that's not an excuse for showcasing poor table manners to the younger ones. Charlie would never do such a thing."

Ginny jerked with a yelp, before abruptly throwing the journal across the room.

Bill went for the old diary immediately, "Warding it off. Ginny?"

She sounded shaken, "I'm alright. It, it burned me."

"When? How?" They were rapid fire questions as he passed his wand around it, over it, curse breaking and isolation spells that were so rote they were almost automatic now.

"Charlie's name." A pause as Bill squatted down, her tones aggravated. "I'm fine Aunt Muriel."

There was nothing about the old diary that was setting off alarms and Bill muttered it aloud. "Self centered prat. Of course."

He stood up, a glance showed him Ginny was fine. "Charlie would do such a thing, wouldn't he? Bet he tied it to his name being mentioned exactly like that."

He didn't relinquish it, but Remus had an excited look on his face and Bill wanted to lessen it. His own heart racing in prospect, he explained the reality. "Charlie is a Seer, the world's most unreliable one."

"William! Your brother is gifted, don't sully it." It was Aunt Muriel.

Bill didn't look away from Remus' expression closing off and felt he need to explain it. "I'm not insulting Charlie, Aunt Muriel. Remus, if you're unaware, my mother's side is descended from a wizard who got stuck out his own time. As a result, Charlie wound up a Channel, most of the prophecy he spews isn't relevant, just passing through."

"That's a really nice way of saying he shouts nonsense and mucks up apparition." Ginny offered up impatiently, "Can we read it now?"

"Let me take a look first, Gin. Charlie's wound up in some bad places by accident." Bill deferred, eyes scanning the two new visible pages.

He passed it over to Ginny, to let it sink in, to ruminate and try and understand why. Ginny read it aloud twice.

 _He understands now why we must keep the flat and not try to sell it to force the twins out to safety. Why the twins refuse to move. How else are the strays to find us when they stumble?_

 _They brought distillation of mandrake and seeds, which we're desperately low on. Virgil is convinced he is a werewolf from the scars, but I don't think they can time travel due to the transformation occurring on a schedule. I've written John, perhaps he knows._

 _I suspect whatever drove them here has already occurred accidentally. There's not even been a rumor at the Ministry over a time meddling notice, no visitors to St. Mungo's with suspicious injuries. I'm meeting Molly tomorrow at Ollivander's to sort wands. I'm in need of a new one and Molly needs to rent one for the next few months. I suspect these babes needs alder wood. We'll see._

Bill looked at Aunt Muriel hopefully, but her eyes were fixed on Remus. "I am sorry about the scar on your back, you couldn't keep the blood replenishing droughts down and I had no choice."

He looked startled, then overcome. "You're the Healer that came?"

She nodded, "John had done most of the work already, but taking you to St. Mungo's would have made it known."

Bill rose to go to the kitchen, gesturing for Ginny to follow to give them a bit of privacy as Remus seemed very intent on continuing the conversation and Aunt Muriel clear enough to do so. Ginny gave a long look back before shutting the door. "It says they, you can't go without me, Bill."

He shook his head, "If you don't get on the Hogwarts Express in a few days there will be even more questions about Ron. Spattergoit won't hold up forever. I know you want to help, I do, but the best thing you can do right now is be as normal as possible."

At her frustrated expression, he pushed onwards. "Gin, let me do some more research now that we have a date. Whatever has to happen matters on that end, not this one, okay? Write me your first Hogsmeade weekend date and we'll do it carefully, not in a rush. The time turners at the Ministry got broken, so we'll need another way. A way that isn't Charlie, he's tracked so one will have to be smuggled."

Ginny, oblivious to the fact that portion was already taken care of, gave a miserable nod, but did not protest his plan. "I hate waiting, but we'll behave. Crookshanks, another train ride for us."

She snatched up the cat that had followed them in and despite Bill's best efforts over the next few days he wasn't able to get the creature alone and retrieve his suspected time turner. Ginny was bound and determined the cat she had been tasked with watching would not run off again. Every ounce of worry or heartache she carried was wound into smothering and spoiling Crookshanks.

He was frustrated, he researched and he had his wand ready as Ginny and Crookshanks got on the Hogwarts Express in a busy, dueling boot filled platform. The note by owl from Hogwarts came later, the handwriting of his former Head of House distinctive and bland in the letter clearly opened and read.

 _Mr. Weasley_

 _Snitch Room_

 _The Burrow_

 _Mr. Weasley,_

 _You are expected to return to school and go directly to the Headmaster's Office to explain your absence. If no reply is received in confirmation of your attendance, your illness will be verified by a visit to the home before the first of October._

His father looked at him in confusion after being shown it, "You're sure it's for you? Not Charlie? Not anyone else?"

Bill ran a hand through his hair, swallowing down the immediate reaction they all had when Percy was a possibility, but more than likely not a cover. The hope they all carried. "I'm the only one who has easy access to mail at the Burrow it would apply to. If she meant Ron it would have been the attic. If she meant the twins it would have been the Bludger room. Ginny is at school."

His Mum pulled it out of his hands and went into the kitchen, Bill watched her pour tea on it, see the ink dripping and toss it in the kitchen sink. His heart twisted, Hermione. Messages by parchment were treated with extreme care on both sides, due to her cleverness. There would be no attempt to banish or burn the opened letter, it would simply become a piece of parchment that fell into the sink.

His Mum turned to her calendar, "We'll find a way. Bill, write Charlie and ask, remind him he's got something on here for the 19th."

Bill got up and looked at Charlie's scrawl, it was illegible, but it was Ginny's Hogsmeade weekend. He couldn't wait and ignoring his Mum's protests he went. She screamed it after him, "It's no time for flying, Bill. The pitch is off limits!"

The pitch, what Aberforth's patch of rugged hillside for his goats was called in the Order. Bill went, carefully, Shell first, twisting and twisting until he was with several focused goats. They were trying in vain to get something up too far for them to jump in the tree from the magic holding them back, he felt around and yanked it down, the slippery cloak. He went through Hogsmeade invisible, pausing at Hagrid's booming laugh and snuck in, nudging him and Minerva, bending over to peer in the near empty tankard with dark green sludge at the bottom. "It's Bill."

There was an impatient mew from inside Hagrid's massive moleskin coat. Now. It was happening now and he had no idea what he was walking into. Filius squeaked, "Hagrid, take the last sip of potion. Our walk home is long."

Minerva stood, the other older man standing with her. "Thank you for opening up your potions cabinet Rosmerta, always were an excellent brewer. I don't have the healing touch, but I should be able to manage it from here until Poppy's back on her feet. Do let me have a look at that old bottle, hmm?"

Bill followed Minerva and Hagrid out, leaving the other two, hearing an impatient mew from inside the familiar moleskin coat. Charlie's West End muggle singing cursed blazer from Fred an George visible underneath. Hagrid started singing at the top of his lungs, Minerva leaning over as she made hushing noises. "I woke up and recalled it. October 8th, 1978 go to Fabian after."

"After what?" Bill asked as Crookshanks dug his claws into his arm as he was shoved under the invisibility cloak. Someone was yelling at Hagrid to shut it and Minerva gave a determined look as she kept marching Hagrid, but there was a scary lack of knowledge in her sharp green eyes. She didn't know why, just when.

Bill went back to the field, just far enough out of Hogsmeade to not set anything off, hung the cloak in its spot and tried to take off Crookshanks collar. It wouldn't budge, he turned the time turner anyway and went.

* * *

When Rose started courting Teddy, he dug through old paperwork from Ginny's courtship. It led to vault key for Bill's eldest child he and Rose went to see what was there. She was very excited, "Aunt Ginny owled me Great Aunt Muriel's old journals. Didn't she buy Mum's wedding dress? She knew I was on the way, right? Do you think she got me something?"

The vault contained three things, a pile of accrued gold, a letter and Howler in stasis with Bill's name on it. He gulped, "Run for it, Rosie."

She didn't. Gryffindor courage kept her by his side as he got belatedly berated for his actions during the Second War and how if he hadn't apologized to Ronald for taking the love of his life he should go do it. Which led his daughter's eyes being as contemplative as her waiting Aunt's were serene. "Don't take a mind to Aunt Muriel, Rose. In fact, Bill did apologize to Ron and never did apologize to me."

"Ginny,-"

"See, he was supposed to rescuing me when he went back in time, but got too focused on your Gram, because he was madly in love with your Mum. From what I've seen it put us here, on the optimal timeline." She grinned and Bill felt like she'd punched him as she tucked her arm through Rose's. "Crookshanks took me first!"

"Ginny-"

She looked over her shoulder, years both gone and carried on her, darkness of times past and happy lightness of her life. "I made my second time turner last week, Bill and got your vault key."

"Second?" Rose asked and Bill followed behind them, hitting Ginny with a silencing charm until they were safely where no other ears could hear.

His heart was thumping, thundering anger brewing in him that had none of the innocent curiosity his daughter's voice held, only intensity. "Second?"

Ginny gave a long glance at Rose before looking out at the waves, voice quiet. " _He_ was obsessed with time and the first one wasn't very good. Once I realized I was who opened the Chamber…well I asked _him_ to help me make one to be able to hide during it." She flicked her hair back angrily, before softening at a glance at Rose, "I was bound, but that's not the same as being controlled like under the Imperious, Rose. Nobody died, I couldn't get it to work enough for more than that." An intense fierceness, "But I protected your Mum and everyone else."

"Oh, Ginny." It came from behind them and Hermione was standing there looking at her sister intently. "Is that why Bill wrote Hogwarts? Why your letter was too wet to read?"

Ginny nodded, giving him a miserable look,"I wrote it down there. Sorry you almost got killed in a tomb, Bill."

"Anytime, anytime, Gin." He tugged at Rose, heading them down the beach and leaving the two women who'd been there for each other through everything to it. To the hard moments that still happened all of these years later.

Rose was quiet, so he tried to lighten it, "Your Gram almost got hit by a bus in 1978 and was quite tossed up over Gramps. When you were little you broke the telly wand to watch a movie a movie about a man who goes back in time to save a woman's unborn baby, remember that?"

"No." It was said with chagrin, his Rose did indeed remember claiming accidental magic as she tried to hide or bash television remotes to get her way.

"Want to guess what I told her about my scars?" He let it go, voice forcefully cheerful.

"Dad…"

"Guess! It's a good one." He nudged her shoulder, his children were old enough to be more embarrassed by his lies to muggles than amused. He was a Dad of teenagers, he was cringe worthy by default.

She sighed loudly and shook her head, throwing out his voice to sound across the cove. "Told her I got mauled by a werewolf."

Rose was grinning a bit and he grinned back, hearing a an attempt at a familiar huff, but a bit thick with emotion behind him and gave his wife an enthusiastic howl in response before calling back. "Figured it didn't violate the Statue of Secrecy, love."


End file.
